Thanatos Rising
by Disjointed-Musings
Summary: Harry was different from his fellow wizards . A childhood brush with death has permanently changed him, and Harry is willing to harness this change. Join Harry on his journey to become the master of death itself. Necromancy, Cryomancy, Semi-powerful Gray
1. Prologue

Thanatos Rising Prologue:

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><p>First story, prologue changed since I wasn't happy with the previous one, R and R please.<p>

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry potter would I honestly be writing fanfiction?

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><p>Grass- green,lush and scattered with blooming flowers of yellow and white. The sky was a vivid blue, with little fluffy clouds meandering around aimlessly. And the sun, bright and yellow, its ray radiating everywhere, smiling down at them.<p>

A house- not too small, not too big, with two windows, a front door and an angular triangular roof. A neat little cobblestone path led up to it, and standing outside the bright red door they would be standing. The man was bespectacled and tall, with messy black hair. The woman was slender with red hair and brilliant green eyes. Their arms around each other, they both were smiling. Smiling at _him_.

The small boy smiled sadly at the childish drawing in his hand as he slowly walked along the pavement. He had done it at school today, and the teacher had told them to take it home and show it to their parents, or in his case his 'relatives'. He snorted at the thought. His relatives would probably rip or even burn his work if he dared showed them it. His cousin on the other hand... they would probably coo, celebrate and pin his work on the fridge, never mind the fact that it looked like someone had carelessly vomited onto it. This however… Harry stopped and softly brushed his fingers against the picture. Although aunt Petunia had always told him that his parents were useless drunks and drug addicts, and that she never bothered to take or keep any pictures of them, Harry knew that she was lying. Sometimes, in that realm between sleep and wake, whilst lying in the darkness on his dusty mattress, he would remember. See his father happily throw him into the air whilst laughing, his mother's gentle touch and shining green eyes. His father, mother and him, altogether, in a happier time. Raindrops fell from the sky. Lightly at first, soft and drizzling. Harry winced as one drop fell into his eyes as he gazed up into the ashen sky. Quickly and ever so carefully, he neatly stowed away his drawing into the plastic supermarket bag that carried his school things. He would have to hurry- his aunt had already picked up Dudley straight from school, and Harry would be shouted at for getting the carpet sodden if he was wet, never mind the fact that it would have all been easily avoided if he had been picked up too.

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><p>It was pouring now. Rain fell like leaden bullets from the sky, landing in faint thuds as they impacted the dampened ground. Harry rushed the last couple of metres to the porch, seeking shelter under the overhang. Carefully, he tested the front door, and his heart sank as it refused to open. Locked. It was like the Dursley's did this on purpose, waiting for him to beg entrance into the house and then proceed to belittle, shout at, and if he was unlucky, bodily push him into his cupboard and leave him there till morning. Harry looked around frantically. There! The front window had been left open (probably by Dudley – his aunt would have never left it open in this weather), and Harry thought to himself that there was probably enough space for his thin body to slide through. He looked around. Once, twice. It wouldn't do to get in, only to have one of the neighbours tell on him. Fortunately, the heavy rain had discouraged any would be onlookers.<p>

Quickly, he ran to the wall, and using his feet, propelled his body onto the ledge. He quickly dragged his way through, and landed in the smaller living room in a crouch. No sound or exclamation greeted his arrival, and he finally let himself breathe. He slunk his way through the door, making sure beforehand that the hallway was clear. He could hear the muffled sound of his aunt cluttering around in the kitchen, and so he proceeded to where he lived. The door always squeaked, and so he took care to open the door, revealing the small, dusty space within. It was always dark under the stairs, and the closest source of light was the one in the hallway, and so Harry, taking advantage of the light before he went into the darkness, reached into his bag to find the picture.

"MUM! THE FREAK'S BACK AND HE'S GETTING WATER ON THE CARPET! "came the jubilant shrieking as Dudley suddenly jumped out from one of the side rooms, finger pointing gleefully. Harry mentally cursed and whirled around, just as the kitchen door snapped open, revealing the imposing figure of his aunt, heavy metal ladle in hand.

"Well done Dudley! Go into the kitchen now, there's cake and lemonade on the table"

Dudley departed the hallway with one final triumphant smirk at Harry. They both knew what was going to happen. His aunt stepped forward, eyes glinting.

"Well, how do you hope to explain this? You're late and getting my carpet wet with your dirty clothes!"

Harry instinctively took a half step back and raised his hands warily, before letting out a yelp of pain as his aunt sharply smacked his hand with the metal ladle. The picture dropped and floated down to the ground. Harry's heart plummeted as his aunt stopped in her menacing advance and stooped to pick it up.

"What is this?" Her voice was different from the nasal tone it normally took on, and instead was quiet, hard and icy.

Harry watched as her eyes scanned the childish picture, and then narrowed as she took in the details. Red hair. Inky black. Glasses. Green eyes.

"…. How did you know? HOW DO YOU KNOW!"

Harry back pedalled, half confused explanations forming at this sudden rage from her normally composed aunt whose verbal tirade only seemed to grow in size and strength.

"…NO SUCH THING! YOUR MOTHER WAS A WHORE, AND YOUR FATHER WAS A NO-GOOD USELESS DRUNK!"

Dudley, still munching on a generous slice of cake, peeked around from the kitchen door just to see his mother slap Harry with her bare hand. She was a frightful sight, face half flushed and blotchy from anger, and the other half white and pale as if in fright of something. Harry, having been forced to the ground from his aunt's blow was trying to get away from his irate aunt when the front door banged open, revealing an equally irate Vernon Dursley.

"WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE! A MAN COMES HOME FOR FOOD AND REST, NOT THIS… THIS RABBLE!" he shouted as he beheld the dismal scene of his off-colour wife, hand raised above his nephew who was scrambling off the floor.

"Vernon…" came the croaky whisper. "Vernon… I think he knows… he knows what they look like! I think he knows about… IT" She showed the picture to him, which was quickly grabbed by him.

"Boy…" came the growl. "What. Is. This?"

Harry too disoriented and confused about what was going on gave off stammered explanations and apologies as he was bodily lifted off the floor.

"THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MA… IT DOES NOT EXIST!" Spittle flew from Vernon as he roared at the little boy, before roughly throwing him into the wall. He stooped down low, so his face was level with Harry's face. He raised Harry's picture.

"This… filth DOES NOT EXIST! AND IF YOU DO _ANYTHING_ LIKE THIS AGAIN…"

Harry could feel the hot breath in his face as he stared petrified through his now thoroughly broken glasses, before he let out a gasp of agony as Vernon planted his fist into his emaciated body. From his position on the floor, he could only watch in despair as his uncle took savage joy in ripping the picture in half before crumpling it up and tossing it through the open front door.

"You'll regret it, you little freak." And with that final parting shot, Vernon Dursley dragged Harry across the carpet floor and carelessly kicked him inside with one foot.

In the darkness of the cupboard he laid, thin body wracked in agony, and hot tears streaming across his face. Why? The small boy living under the cupboard was confused, angry and frustrated, desperately hoping that there was something more to life than this. Unknowingly to him, as he closed his eyes in an effort to shut out the pain as well as the world, shimmering strands of essence started to coat his entire body. Suddenly, one tendril leapt out like a writhing snake, and was seemingly absorbed by the dead body of a spider. The spider suddenly twitched.

Outside, in the rain, the picture that he had lovingly drawn was being soaked. The figures of his parents, seemed to cry as water slid and discoloured them, before the whole image melted away as the rain overcame it.


	2. Death and Love

**Insert generic legal stuff here. Don't own anything you recognize at all.**

Thanks for the subs guys! Special thanks to Mischievous Curiosity, as far as reviews go that was really something! That really helped me to actually finish typing and get this out, hope it doesn't dissapoint! Don't worry, Harry's experience with the Dursley's wont make him meek and weak, but will have a impact on his psyche. Afraid I can't reveal anything else so far, because I haven't decided definitely yet. Enjoy!

Flashes of colourful lights. Quite beautiful really, if not for the situation. Harry woke up abruptly, blinking away the foggy sleepiness. A beautiful woman with gentle hands and long soft silky hair. A smiling face framed with spectacles and messy inky hair. Mama? Papa? Where were they? Harry didn't like it when they weren't around/ Stretching out his tiny fists waving, he rolled over onto his front. Reaching out, he pulled himself, grasping the bars of his crib in an effort to look at his surroundings. The flashes of light had stopped, and as Harry looked out from his hazel eyes all he could focus on were the flickering flames atop the scented candle that his mummy always liked.

The door suddenly slammed inwards, and the candle was carelessly knocked anew by a beautiful woman with flaming red hair. Her normally smiling visage was marred with violent distress, and her eyes were shimmering with barely held back tears as they darted around before settling on the small boy in the crib. Offering a watery smile, she gracefully stumbled across the room, trembling as she lifted up her beloved son.

"We'll be alright Harry, just you see."

she whispered, as her hand clutched the silver phoenix pendant that encircled her neck.

"Sanctuary"

"_Sanctuary!"_

Lily became increasingly distressed as her life-line failed to do anything at all. Harry was upset, he didn't like it when his mummy was like this. Leaning into her trembling body, he tentatively patted her back, only to get a muffled sob in response as she clung to Harry.

"It'…It'll be alright Harry, mummy's not going to leave you, everything is going to be okay, mummy is here for you, no one is going to hurt you whilst mummy is-"

Lily's frantic verbal reassurances were cut off abruptly as the bedroom wall was blasted aside, eradicating the animated frolicking animals that previously played in Harry's nursery. Lily took a deep shuddering breath, pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's forehead.

Mummy loves you Harry, always remember that

She placed Harry back into his cot, before whirling round, wand out in order to face the hooded, cloaked man who had nonchalantly strolled into the ruined nursery, and was currently carelessly flicking off the specks of dirt and rubble that soiled his pitch black apparel.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known by his pseudo-name Lord Voldemort cheerfully strode into the quaint little bedroom. Well, it would have been quaint if he hadn't neglected the door, and instead chose to make his entrance by blasting the entire wall out.

_I shouldn't have done that _he mused as he flicked off the specks of dirt from the explosion _although it did have the desired effect._

He patiently observed as mother and son shared a last touching moment.

_Let it not be said that Lord Voldemort is totally heartless. Afterall, such unspoken rules must be observed. There's no reason to rush this, I'll be invincible after tonight!_

He was broken out of his thoughts as Lily Potter whirled round to face him, face set in stone.

"Where is my husband?"

"_**James Potter? Ah yes, very entertaining he was. Defiant to the last breath. Quite foolish really. I'm afraid he's currently unavailable. Don't worry though, you'll be joining you're husband shortly though, along with your son**__."_

A lone tear ran down from her eye. Her wand shot from her holster into her hand.

"Over my dead body, Voldemort."

"_**You're insolence amuses me, but let it not be said that Lord Voldemort is without mercy. It seems that one my servants, a Mr Severus Snape is interested in you and**_-"

"Severus? You lie, there's no way that he-_"_

"_**Do not interrupt you foolish girl. As I was saying, you will be spared and given to him for him to do as he pleases. An unpleasant existence, but a better alternative than death. What say you**__?"_

"I…I… What about Harry_?"_

"_**I'm afraid that young Harry here will have to die to ensure my dominance over**__-"_

"Take you're offer and shove it where the sun does not shine_!"_

"_**You displease me girl. Lord Voldemort does not like it when his generous offers are spurned. This is your last chance, step aside**__."_

"Like I said, over my dead body, I will fight you_."_

"_**Very well, ladies first**__"_

A heavy silence filled the room as Harry watched, observing from his crib. Although he did not fully understand what was going on, he realised something was very wrong, especially with the hooded man. Where was his daddy? He would know what to do.

Suddenly, Lily's hand blurred, an angry red light shooting out of her wand. For a moment, it seemed as if it would collide, but it was not to be so. Voldemort casually sidestepped it, and replied with a flurry of sickly beams. A lightshow filled Harry's nursery, but this lightshow was menacing and solemn instead of entertaining. Although Lily was trying as hard as she can, frantically conjuring stone sheets to deflect the deadly curses, she was being overwhelmed with the sheer number of spells erupting from Voldemort's wand. With a last desperate attempt, she shot a reducto which was dodged and countered with a concussive hex that blasted her across the room, landing next to Harry's crib.

"_**Enough playing around girl, you're existence irks me. CRUCIO**__!"_

Harry watched helplessly as his mother convulsed under the menacing red curse, body spasming in pain. After what seemed like minutes, Voldemort relented, and Lily with the last of her strength crawled over to her son. Looking into her son's eyes through her own pain filled ones, she tenderly stroked Harry's forehead with a injured, bloody hand.

"_Im… Im sorry Harry. Mummy loves you, always."_

Harry's forehead was wet with his mother's blood.

"_**AVADA KEDAVRA!"**_

The blazing green curse impacted Lily Potter's form, and with one last spasm extinguished all life within her. Her forest green eyes clouded over, never to see again.

"_**And now for the brat… to think that one day you'll actually be a threat to me. Too bad that's not going to happen**_."

Harry's mummy wasn't moving, despite his tentative shakings. Deep down in his infantile mind, he somehow realised his mummy wasn't going to move again. He turned and looked up at the man who had made his mummy stop moving.

"_**Goodbye child. AVADA KEDAVRA!**_**"**

"_~Mummy loves you~"_

Just as the green ray of death was about to impact Harry's forehead, the wet bloody stain that resulted from Lily Potter's final action glowed. Voldemort watched aghast as the unforgivable curse inexplicably slowed down before stopping, held in place by the golden glow emanating from the boy's forehead.

"_~Mummy loves you, always…~"_

Harry could somehow feel the sinister energy coming from the green light. He didn't like it. He didn't want it to touch him. He wanted it away from him, but it was insistent, pushing against Harry's will. Harry pushed back.

"~_Mummy loves you, always remember that~"_

As Voldemort watched, somehow frozen against his will, the stationary killing curse seemed to bend and contort. Staring into the baby's solemn eyes, he marvelled as the baby's hazel brown eyes began to change colour, from brown to the forest green of his deceased mothers, before becoming brighter and brighter. Throughout this transformation, the blood traced onto his forehead became radiating light, until it was so bright he wanted to look away.

"~_It'll be alright Harry~"_

Grimacing through the light, Voldemort was shocked to look into the glowing green eyes of Harry Potter.

_Green… his eyes are just the colour of the killing curse!_

That was Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as the Dark Lord or Voldemort's last thoughts before the stationary killing curse was repelled at break neck speed and pummelled into his body. Excruciating pain followed as he was ripped from his rapidly decaying body and banished away.

As the last of the Dark Lord's body crumbled into dust, Harry Potter closed his eyes, exhausted. As he fell into a deep slumber, the glow emanating from his forehead died down, revealing a jagged, pink scar, reminiscent of a lightning bolt.

Harry Potter, the boy who cheated death.


	3. Unhappy Memories

Legal Shurzz. I do not own crumpled horn Snorcacks, or anything they eat.

Just a quick update, finished this section and decided to upload it because im really bad at writing long chapters. Don't worry, more is on the way.

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><p>Harry did not have a happy childhood. Afterall, the Dursley's made sure his life was made up of hours of sweat, pain, and even occasionally blood. However, Harry was proud to say he faced his miserable existence stoically, not giving the satisfaction of even a single tear. Call it silly, but Harry's pride was one of the only things he could say he felt he owned, and he would be loathe to give that up to the Dursleys.<p>

_Vernon Dursley_ may spit on him, throw him headfirst into the cupboard, constantly belittle him, and on bad nights even beat him with his belt but Harry would merely reply with silence and solemn stares, and never with any weakness or tears.

_Petunia Dursley _may work his fingers till they were bloody and raw, 'accidentally' forget to feed him, and tell tales about his apparent crimincal activities to all the neighbours, but Harry would just be silent, bow his head and go about his buisness, pretending not to care.

And _Dudley Dursley_. They say children can be cruel. Dudley and his bunch of lackies are prime example of that. Ruling the playground with a slightly pudgy, but still large and intimidating fist, they make Harry's life even more miserable everytime he stepped into the playground.

"_Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt me_."

Harry can say from experience that the first one was definitely true. Dudley and his cronies were very liberal in their 'rough housing', and it was Harry's fault for being too fragile and insisting on playing, the teacher would say. And if the teacher turned a blind eye, what else could Harry do? The other children were also victims if they interacted with Harry in any other way other than hostility. It hurt, but Harry would not give in. Dudley may try as hard as he can, but Harry Potter did not break.

_Harry Potter will not break._

Of course it hurt. It all hurt.

It hurt when Harry shuddered helplessley as Vernon Dursley used him as a punching bag, venting his rage on his small body. It hurt as each blow descended like boulders, pummeling him. It hurt when he was finally locked into the cupboard, and sat there in the dark wincing from the red and purple spots that blossomed all over his body.

It hurt when Harry was out there weeding, and the dry earth hungrily consumed his lifeblood as they dripped from between his hands, cut by the cruel barbs and thorns that popped out, nourished from the blood lost from his previous week. The Dursleys would not waste money on gloves, just to spare the freak from some pain.

It hurt that as Harry bled under the harsh sun's rays, all the neighbours would do was listen to Petunia's venemous words and give him distrustful looks, telling anyone who cared and some who didn't to _stay away from that nasty boy._ Anything that went wrong in Little Winging was attributed to him, without a shred of evidence justifying to do it.

And it especially hurt that even in school, a haven for learning, he was still dogged by the Dursley's influence. The headmaster ran in the same social circles as the Dursleys and were on good terms. Harry was just the orphan boy sticking his unwanted nose into the hardworking Dursely's lives. All those bruises and scratches from Harry's playground encounters? Accidents. Besides they were his fault anyway, for wanting to play in such rough games. Even when the headmaster, in his ridiculous tweed jacket, saw Harry surrounded by Dudley's gang, he would merely genially talk to Dudley, and inquire about his mother's health. As Dudley postured ridiculously and responded like the perfect gentleman, he would then congratulate him on allowing the poor orphan to play with him, before telling Harry that he was very lucky to be blessed with a cousin as sensitive as Dudley, before striving away, leaving Harry at the tender care of his cousin.

It was pathetic. It was sick. And Harry _hated it._

Adults were useless. From his relatives, to the prying neighbours who led such sad lives, and to that corrupt smiling headmaster who most likely knew what was going on.

Harry would not be weak. He would not see the satisfaction as he gave up before them.

Harry was angry. He would make it stop. He would get out of this place.

And one day...

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><p>Spent less time on this than on the other ones, but thought it secured a good backdrop to Harry's situation. Quality may have suffered though. Tell me what you think by reviewing! Each number added to that review counts does wonders in motivating me, so please do :)<p>

DM


	4. Winter Waning

**Disclaimer**: Does anyone actually care if someone doesn't do one of these things? I mean ive never heard of someone getting into trouble because of a lack of this. However, seeing that everyone else seems to be doing this, I thought why not? If Harry Potter did truly belong to me, I would make the amusement park over here in the UK, and try to replace the ugly common chess sets with the Harry potter ones. Alas, unfortunately tis not to be.

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait! Had a lot going on recently with school and life as such. However, pleased to know I've churned out my longest chapter yet (although to be fair, its a previous chapter with a lot added on. Decided to combine the two). Writing is so much hard work. Never really appreciated it. I can easily get through a 100k+ story in one night, but writing a mere couple of thousand of words takes effort and a considerable amount of time, and has made me appreciate it the time and effort spent by some authors. This is why I'm reviewing other people's stories now, as to show my appreciation for their time and effort spent. Would really appreciate it if you guys did the same, nothing else makes an author more happy and eager to write more chapters. Thanks again to all those who reviewed and subscribed.

Big shout out to my friend Amy, who has really encouraged me to actually write instead of read and procrastinate, and put up with me these few weeks. We're writing fanfics simultaneously, and she's writing a Hunger games one: .net/s/8008131/1/Two_sides_to_every_story, I'm sure she would really appreciate it if you check it out :).

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><p>Winter Warmth<p>

Snowflakes twirled and danced, delicately riding the spirals of wind that sliced through the evening air. Already, sparkling white, a deep cushioning of snow had covered the floor, wiping away all the imperfections of Gaia's skin with its patchy grass and cruel weeds. The snow that year was especially unforgiving, masking everything in uniform white, and hiding away almost every sign of life. It was night time.

It was very cold. To many, the snow would have seemed invitingly soft, caling for people to play and roll around in it. But at this twilight hour of Christmas Eve, play was the last thing on the little boys mind.

Christmas Eve. A time of celebration, companionship, and festive Yule joy. For some, a time of religion, a commemoration of the birth of Christ. At around this time, many families around the world would be in high spirits, enjoying the festive spirit prevalent in the air, sitting cozy in their family hearths and filling their stomachs with good food and tasty beverages. Families would be gathered together, telling stories, playing games, and make merry in general. Humanity will allow its best to surface, conflicts are put aside whilst generosity and milk of human kindness runs freely.

Of course, all of that didn't apply for Harry Potter. Most normal things didn't as he had learned. Brilliant green eyes peered out into the twilight darkness, still untainted by the hard edge and bitterness that would happen in later years. Shuffling through the winter snow, he tried to repress another shudder as a particularly vicious gust of wind sliced through his small frame, which was swamped in a tatty old coat, several sizes too big. His shoes didn't fit either, and were especially not suited for this environment. Knee deep in the snow, they were already soaked through and ruined, allowing the icy coldness to creep into the gaps between his toes. He was five.

Aunt Marge was visiting. Although Vernon Dursley had not began to use Harry as his personal punching bag (for even he had some morals about attacking a child scarce out of the crawling phase), the Dursleys still had neglected Harry to an almost criminal degree. He was their dirty, unwanted secret, and their primary way of dealing with him was ignoring him completely. Of course, when the Dursleys had guests over, Harry was kept out of sight, and thus out of mind. It wouldn't do for others to find that the Dursleys kept Harry in a cupboard and neglected him after all. They had a image to keep up. So when they recieved word that they were to expect a visit from Vernon's sister, plans were made.

_"No Dudley sweety, you can't eat that yet! No sweety, don't cry mummy will give you extra pudding tonight, Ok? My days... Vernon! Marge is about to arrive! Put on your suit and go collect her!"_

_"Of course, pet! But what about... the... the boy? Marge won't like it for sure! I won't stand for it!"_

_"Well what do you propose we do about it? _

_The bickering between the adult Dursleys continued as the subject of their debate quietly sat in the corner of the room. The little boy sat quietly in the corner, seemingly unaware of the world around him. His demeanor, in stark contrast to the wailing child throwing a tantrum across the room, was of quiet contemplation as he silently observerd the scene around him. His body on the otherhand was stiff and erect, seemingly alert and fearful of something._

_"... Well we can't force him to go to Mrs Figg! It ain't right, forcing him on decent Christian folk, especially at this hour."_

_"Dang blast it! Well we have to get him out the house!"_

_"Well do it then Vernon! Im not having the little freak eat any of my cooking!"_

_Harry barely a hour earlier had been the one toiling to prepare those potatoes. Now, they sat there, the fruit of his labours on a elaborate dish on the table. Rich, gold and crispy, sprinkled with sea salt and garnished with a knob of melting butter. Oh how much he wanted to just taste one, one small bite to appease the constant hunger pains that plagued his stomach. The drifting arouma coiled seductively, warming and teasing the skinny young boy, who knew that if he was to even touch them, he would be locked up for three days. His fantasies about food were however abruptly broken by a shrill screech._

_"Throw him out then! I don't care just get him out the house!"_

_"You heard your aunt, boy! Don't make her repeat herself! Out, I say, get out!"_

_Harry sad there disbelievingly. Out of the corner of his eye, he couse see out the frosted window, out into the white blizzard storming outside, as it whirled around furiously, lashing out with snowy tendrils, like a confined beast raging against the world. It was a stark contrast being the world outside and the one inside, even with the cheerless, oppresive air of the Dursley's kitchen. At least it warm inside, and Harry liked it warm, even when he was stuck in his cupboard. He desperately pleaded._

_"But... But Aunt Petunia! Lo...Look outside! Can I...I maybe stay in cupboard! Me... me will be quiet and-"_

_Harry was however cut off as bony hands viciously dragged him across the room, digging harshly into his shoulders. The door was thrown open, and Harry was viciously pushed outside. The cold struck like a slap from the hand of God. Harry's breath blossomed out into the air like smoke from a chimney. Icy winds alternatively lashed and carressed his skin, rendering it numb and unfeeling within moments. But the worst of all was his exposed face. The howling wind pierced every exposed inch of skin, stinging like a hive of angry hornets, plunging icy daggers that shot pain. Harry squinted his eyes as the sensitive organs began to weep, trying to defy the impenetrable whirlwind of ice and snow. Desperately, Harry tried to shield himself, and pounded the door._

_"I'm... I'm so cold Aunt Petunia. Sorry, sorry, let me in, please aunt Petunia, I promise to be good, just let me in..."_

_The world, other than the constant howling of the blizzard, was silent. It seemed ages before the uncaring front door of the Dursley's opened, and a unidentifiable bunch of fabric was carelessley thrown out. Almost as if an afterthought, this was followed by a horrible grey and orange hat with tattered pom poms attached._

_"Be grateful for it freak! I expect you to be back here tommorow morning seven am sharp to make breakfast. About time you started earning your keep..."_

_The door slammed shut._

Harry shivered piteously and wrapped the sodden garment closer to his battered body. The silver moon loomed overhead, its soft glowing rays irradiating the mask of fresh crisp snow. Thankfully, the earlier blizzard had died out, the beast having exhausted itself. However, moving was still a chore in his sodden clothes. Draggin himself forward again, he wrenched his foot blindly forwards, and promptly had his face imprinted into the edgy snow as it fell through into a previously concealed hole.

He laid there, too tired and weary to even move. His eyes faced nothing but white in the darkness, and his breath came in shallow, dry heaves. The moistness from the surrounding snow, further chilling his clammy skin, as if seeking out to quench out the remaining heat.

_'This is nice' _he thought.

Facedown in the snow, he noticed the silence. Under the light of the moon, and in the midst of the frozen plains next to the forest, it really was quite beautiful, the silence. Tranquil, that was the word. He felt at peace.

_"Tweet, tweet"_

The snow had stopped melting from the warmth of his small body. He couldn't feel his feet anymore.

_"Tweet, Tweet!"_

The shrill tweeting shattered the silence, and drove Harry out of the fog that was clouding his mine. Driven by curiousity, Harry temporarily put aside his weariness. Rising to his feet, he stumbled to where the insistent sound was coming from, grabbing onto a skeletal branch of a tree to steady himself. Squinting in the darkness, his hand tentatively groping, he swept away some debris that were muffling the tweeting.

_"Tweet, tweet"_

The body was still faintly warm, but quite obviously dead. Beautiful dark clouded eyes stared up unseeingly, looking up to the stars, whilst its body was beginning to stiffen from it's recent evacuation of life. The large dead raven's feathers were already being covered by a faint layering of snow and frost, but even in death it shrouded and enclosed its precious cargo. Brilliant dark eyes, rimmed with a peculiar shine, gazed curiously up Harry. Green eyes met with black as boy and bird met in the frozen fields, underneath the moon.

Harry reached out unthinkingly, and with numb hands tenderly scooped up the infant bird, who went willingly, having stopped calling out for help. The small ball of feathers began to shiver piteously as it was exposed to a sudden burst of icy wind, and the boy, unconcerned for his own well being, huddled his shoulders and tried to warm and shield the small helpless creature in his arms.

Silent minutes passed, only punctuated by the sound of movement from the two travellers. In the distance, Harry could see the outline of a tree of titanic dimensions, overlooking everything nearby. Trunk spanning into the skyline, it stood out with the other forest giants, for its branches were still of foilage, promising temproary shelter for the duo. With agonising slowness, Harry closed the final few yards, and collapsed bonelessly against the sturdy trunk, being careful not to drop the raven, which had become unmoving in his arms.

The rough unyielding bark dug into his flesh, but Harry hardly felt it at all, because of the cold. HIs body rested limply, and it took considerable effort as he raised his arms in order to look at his weary companion.

"I'm sorry birdy. I don't think we're going to make it."

The infant bird tilted his head upwards, and opened his large bright eyes curiously. Harry absent mindedly petted the little head, and the bird squinted cutely, head bobbing back up.

"Was that your mummy back there? I'm sorry. She must have loved you. She died to save you, I think."

The baby raven nodded it's head, almost as if in agreement.

"Your mummy must have loved you. My mummy did too, at least I think so. Aunt Petunia, says that she never loved me, but I think she is mean and was lieing. I dream about her sometimes, you know. I think...I think she told me that she would always love me."

A lone tear hung on precariously from his eyelash, before it was suddenly tore away by a sudden gust. The beast was revived with sudden energy, and Harry ducked his head between his legs, holding the bird safely in the space between. In the frozen darkness, he was suddenly overcome with a sudden flood of melancholoy.

The raven looked up curiously at it's saviour, and gave a soft, inquiring chirp. Harry gave a soft smile. He had thought he was alright with the idea of dieing, but now, he was'nt that sure. Afterall, if he died, he wouldn't be able to care and ensure that the little raven lived. His forehead creased in distress.

Suddenly, something changed. He was suddenly aware of something other than the endless howling and winter misery. From the darkness, he grew conscious of violent colours, of all shades and intensity. In the little room he had made from his body, he noticed a rich red speckled with dusty gold, emanating from his body. As he watched, he saw how this colour that seemed to be part of him seemed to be slowly drifting away from him, before being lost to the cold outside.

However, as he delved into this new world, he was overcome by the majestic sight before him. His body was part of and surrounded by an sparkling azure sphere, radiating power and intoxicating energy. Admist this glittering sea, tendrils of pitch black, radiant gold and neon green swam and dived in and out of it. It was immense. It was powerful. It was seductive. And somehow, Harry knew that it belonged to him, and was part of him.

Unfortunately, Harry'y revelry in discovering this brand new exciting colourful world before him was shattered as a stream of speckled red colour seemed to whirl past from beneath him before 'bleeding' into the atmosphere. Glancing down in panic, he was alarmed to find the origin of the source of red 'energy' was him and the small bird, that had started to shiver violently. As the energy dissipated into the air, Harry looked down in horror as the red vortex of energy that were part of him and the bird started shrinking. Although he did not know what was happening, he knew somehow that if this red energy were to run out, something bad would happen. Something that he was going to try and prevent.

Blinking abruptly as a particularly vicious gust abused his eyes, he started shivering. Somehow, he had not noticed how cold it was. Oh how cold it was! If only there was some way to be warm and-

With a sudden tingle, Harry was able to be aware of the colours again. A tendril of blue energy bursted out, and joined the diminishing red sphere that somehow inhabited the same space and yet was still separate. Harry's body jolted as the blue stream wormed its way through, and somehow became part of the red instead, leaving after traces of crackling colours. The previously depleted red vortex suddenly brightened and swelled, blazing and bloating into a much more healthy size. Suddenly, Harry felt revived, better than he had been for as long as he could remember. Old bruises and scratches seemed to fade and the constant pain he had been living with ebbed away on the flowing wind. Little did he know that his whole body had been fully refreshed. Deep aches that came from overwork and cracked bones that came from accidents were soothed and repaired. Looking around in awe, he marveled at how he was no longer cold, and was in fact quite comfortable. A shimmering nimbus of blue coated his entire body, protecting and sheltering him.

However, almost as soon as Harry was rejoicing in his new vitality, and was turning to do what he did to himself to his defenceless companion, he was abruptly hit by a loss of another kind. It was like a sudden fatigue, or sharp pain yet It wasn't anything physical at all. His eyes widened as he observed the colours again. The azure sphere had shrunk considerably, and seemed more muted than before, neon sparks no longer freely ranging in and out of its surface. Looking at it doubtfully, Harry reckoned it was almost a tenth of its previous size: possibly not enough to save his companion.

Casting out his senses in an attempt to arrive at a solution, Harry became aware of other colours. Most significant of all was the presence of what was hard to describe, but Harry associated with hollowness. In this hollowness, that was present everywhere, from the frozen grass to the skeletal trees, there seemes to reside a insubstantial, fluid colour that can only be descibed as a peculiar shade of limp blue mixed with greater parts of muted green. Continuing his search, as he turned around, he was aware of another source of red energy. Taking a moment to take it in, he was presented with the trunk of the large tree he was leaning against. Despite the massive bulk, the mighty aspect of nature seemed to be mostly hollow. Although definitely more alive than its fellow trees, its leaves were limped and tattered, and a deidedly unhealthy colour. Unlike the red energy now glowing brightly and filling up all of Harry, the tree's energy seemed sluggish and lackluster. Furthermore, it seemed so pathetically small, confined to a small kernel, whilst its main body promised better days when that energy would be much more grandiose and impressive. Harry was severely tempted to see if he could transfer this energy to himself, but stopped. It seemed so unfair for him to deprive this tree of life, in order to save another. The tree had weathered the harsh winters of frost and snow that had managed to kill off its siblings, yet had managed to emerge, battle scarred yet still alive. Harry was loathe to extinguish this final flame of life that the tree had managed to keep alight. He continued, looking for alternate means.

He turned his attention back to the insubstantial colour that was all around. There was certainy plenty of it, yet it seemed unhelpful in its current state. The little boy frowned in thought. Maybe he could…

Reaching out tentatively, he gave the substance of a nearby dead shrub a mental 'poke' of such. The reaction was instantaneous. The substance suddenly whirled into action, as if jolted with electricity, and Harry likewise jolted as a spark of blue travelled up, through his mental poke, and joined with his azure sphere. The amount was infinitisemal, but Harry realised that this was a way to replenish his 'blue' energy. Casting out his senses, he sent mental tendrils out, latching on to the substance, before greedily taking it all in. It was electical. It was empowering. It was _**absolutely magical.**_

Although the amount from each patch was relatively small, the abundance of the substances as well as his multiple uptake meant that his azure sphere exploded in a sea of blue energy. It could no longer be called a sphere. It was now more of a ocean of sorts, roaring with power. Looking down at the Raven, he gave a small smile.

"You know what birdie? I think we are going to be alright."

He concentrated, wishing for the pitifully small red core of the bird to be replenished. Like before, a shot of blue leapt from him, and was absorbed by the raven. It's core swelled, and the small bird stopped shivering, and looked up in surprise. However, as the raven's apparent capacity for the red energy was reached, the blue shot continued, still not fully used up. It too was absorbed into the bird, and as that happened, the raven had the most amazing transformation.

Its inky black plumage suddenly partly changed colour, every other feather now a brilliant white in a chaotic yet orderly pattern. The raven's dark soulful eyes suddenly glowed with an etheral light, and Harry had to squint away. When the light finally died away, a majestic bird replaced the weak creature before. With its striking plumage and feathers, larger size, and its void black eyes that somehow had whirling swirls of neon green and blue inside them, Harry was amazed. The former raven chirped, and snuggled into Harry as if in thanks. For a boy deprived of human warmth and kindness, Harry was elated, allowing the bird to burrow into a foothold among Harry's clothing.

However, even as Harry started to drift into contentment, he was suddenly provoked by the sight before him. All the previous substance before him were now devoid of any pigment of blue, and instead consisted of various amounts and shades of green. Although Harry was not aware that the people able to see the scene before his eyes were very rare, he was affronted with the mess he had unintentionally made. He had taken the blue inside him, and was able to convert it into red, so logically he thought that the green was able to do something. With a mental sweep, he started collecting all the green essence together, untill he was left with a massive pile of the stuff. Humming softly, Harry turned his attention to the tree, and gently tried to fill the hollow mass of the tree with the green essence.

Unlike with the raven, there was no fancy reaction with flashing lights. However, the green essence, once manipulated and placed, seemed to to take a mind of its own. Wriggling strands immediately shot in all directions, spiralling up branches and into leaves. Harry watched, yet again awed as the green essence filled the hollow parts of the trunk up. Dead bark and leaves seemed to jolt and jump, before seemingly coming back to life and full of vitality. The kernel of red inside the tree seemed to writhe, shaking the surrounding green, and started to steadily grow in size, taking in the green and turning from the dull red into a earthy red that seemed to radiate warmth and contentment. Harry absent mindedly sent some of his blue energy into the tree as well, and gazing up, silently observed as the mixture of essences and energy filled up to the very top of the branches and leaves. The tree somehow gave a heavy sign, almost in gratitude, and the branches seemed to converge around Harry and his now sleeping companion, as if shielding the pair from the elements in thanks for its restoration. As Harry gradually dozed off, holding onto a warm body and feeling better than he had been feeling for a long time, as well as feeling safe and secured, he reflected on this amazing happenstance and what had just happened. He really hoped that it wasn't a dream and that…

Harry awoke to the sound of bird song and with a smile on his face. Gentle sunlight drifted down, tinted with green as it broke through the lush green foilage of what seemed to be a coccon around him. Harry looked around. The bird was gone, but had left Harry one of its brilliant feathers, that seemed to radiate light and darkness at the same time. So it wasn't all a dream then. Refreshed from his rest, Harry climbed to his feet. A opening emerged as the branches twisted gently away. He started walking. The Dursley's would be upset he was late, but somehow the thought didn't bother him too much. Turning back, he absent mindedly waved his hand at the tree, and was pleasantly surprised when the branches seemed to wave back. The crisp snow made a pleasing crunch beneath his feet. The sun was shining. Harry was happy.

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><p>Tell me what you think and <strong>Review! And I'll promise less angst, and more dinosaurs. (Im serious about the dinosaurs. There should be more in hpff.)<strong>

**DM :)**


	5. A brief history lesson

Disclaimer: I had the chance to get Harry potter on ebay. But some bastard sniped me at the last moment.

Yeah… been a long time. Sorry? This chapter is a bit different from the usual, but please tell me what you think. I might move it to the prologue if its positive feedback. I have a lot of epic ideas, but their just ideas, and may never actually put in writing. Please review and feedback to let me know what you think. Love you guys. Reviewing does help someone to get on with the story :)

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><p>Some say the world began in fire. Some say in ice. Truth is, none of us know for sure, for that distant past has long been shrouded in the murky mists of ancient history. However, as with all beginnings, there are stories. Fantastical, mystical stories that surround the time that magic came into being in this world. Although the details vary from each telling, the common consensus was that magic was a gift, bestowed upon us in those early, early days.<p>

Our story starts with the formation of the earth. The Creator formed the earth with his will, and applied the land, sky and sea, as an artist would with a paintbrush, lovingly crafting out the details of this planet. Fauna and life flourished, and all was good. He then, using his considerable skill, created a haven, a place full of life and wonder, a garden, which we have come to known as Eden. And in Eden, he placed his best and most prized creations, wondrous landscapes teeming with blossoming plant life, and ancient beings that have been long forgotten. Most importantly of all, the Creator, with his own hands, planted a seed, which after one passing of the moon upon the sky, sprang into a majestic and towering tree, which towered over the rest of the garden. This tree was known as Yggdrasil. Its mighty roots burrowed into the land, anchoring themselves to the centre of the earth. Upon its graceful boughs hung delicate, sacred fruits, of mesmerising ever-changing colours, a bite of which promised the greatest of flavours as well as powers. And at the peak of Yggdrasil, disappearing into the clouds themselves, was the route to the Creator's very own, personal domain, one that has never been seen with mortal eyes.

Despite what some humans would have us believe, our beginnings were apparently far from glorious. Our earliest ancestors were little more than wild beasts, bearing more resemblance to the primates of today rather than our modern selves. We were just one of many of the Creator's creations, and indeed upon that hierarchy, we were far from the top. They roamed the wide expanse of the Creator's playground aimlessly, foraging for food, living in contentment yet never aspiring for more.

Yet one day, this all changed with the coming of two humans, the greatest yet also the most terrible of us, their names being said to have been Adam, 'He-who-united', and Eve, 'She-who-guided'. The two, lovers of each other, had became separated from their tribe, and, hungry and tired had stumbled across Eden by complete chance. It was unknown whether it was the Creator's will that they were granted access, or that they were too insignificant and were just overlooked, but nevertheless Adam and Eve delighted in their discovery of this hidden paradise. For many days, the silhouettes and sounds of laughter flitted amongst the lush green canopy, as the two of them rejoiced and explored Eden to their heart's content, sampling the exquisite fruits that would never be tasted again, playing in the crystal clear lagoons full of life and creatures of every violent shade and colour. And so their lives continued in perfect bliss and harmony, as day and night set and rose over Eden.

However, one day, Eve, leaving Adam sleeping by the tree hollow they were using as a shelter, came across something that would change everything. Like a siren's call, she found herself drown to a place in Eden she had never went before. As she curiously loped towards her destination, if she had been paying attention, she would have noticed the inexplicable quieting and then silence of the ever present melody that arose from the colourful things that flew around, or the gradual darkening of the foliage, from that of lush viridian green to an almost somber and serious dark green. However, so enraptured she was by the incessant need that drew her, she failed to notice. As her head emerged through the final curtain of vines, she gasped at the awe inspiring sight in front of her. Flickers of scattered sunlight flicked across her face and the forest floor as she stared up at the mighty tree that towered above her. A sense of grave beauty and serious mystique hung around the mighty forest titan that seemed to span above into the very clouds themselves. Unable to help herself, she moved closer, absent mindedly caressing the rich, dark bark. It was soft, yet rough, waxy yet smooth, and somehow sent tingles through her fingertips, which left her shuddering at the unusual yet pleasurable experience. Despite it's peculiar presence and stature however, Eve was about to turn away, for it was just a tree, and there were thousands of other trees, when a stray beam of sunlight glanced off something and caught her eye.

Hanging down from one of the lower boughs hung what appeared to be fruits. However, they were different from the plethora that Adam and Eve had come across so far during their explorations. Even from the forest floor, Eve was entranced by the mesmerising colours and patterns that rippled across the skin of the fruit. In the pale sunlight, the fruit seemed to glow with an ethereal presence, that seemed to draw the very light into itself. Eve subconsciously licked her lips. She wanted it. So very badly. It attracted her beyond the normal needs for food, shelter and entertainment. Gracefully bounding off on long athletic legs, she dexterously swung from bough to bough, before carefully plucking the fruit she had saw earlier. Again, mere contact with the fruit sent pleasurable tingles throughout her body. She clutched her prize, and was about to take the first bite when-

Some say that Eve did not bite the fruit because she wanted to share the experience with Adam. Others say that she heard a hiss from somewhere, and primal instincts told her it would be best not to enjoy her prize right there. Nevertheless, Eve quickly started descending the tree, fruit in hand. As she passed down through the levels, she paused briefly to snag another fruit. After all, the fruit was really quite small, fitting in the palm of her hands, and splitting it with Adam would leave none of their appetites sated. When Adam greeted her when she returned, she proudly presented her with one of the fruits. Taking it, they both took an eager bite. As their teeth pierced through the soft skin and into yielding flesh, the fall and rise of our race began.

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><p>Yggdrasil was said to have thrived and nourished under the Creator's very own hands and toil. Therefore it explained why it was different from the trees around it. Its mighty roots delved into the earth's very core, and were said to be guarded by some ferocious guardian. Its peak pierced the very heavens, and were said to be a gateway to the Creator's own personal domain. And from its mighty boughs hung the fruits of the Creator. Unlike what Eve had foolishly thought, they were not for the nourishment of common mortals and creatures. Each fruit contained a small facet of Yggdrasil's power, and through it, a insignificant speck of the Creator's power. Even so, consumption of the fruit led to the empowerment of Adam and Eve, changing them on every level. However, because they had consumed different fruits, their super evolution resulted in different results. The fruit Eve had snagged had been the fruit of knowledge, containing a small facet of the Creator's very own knowledge, which nevertheless had rocketed the intelligence of Eve to something that no mortal being had experienced before. Within the span of a couple of seconds, she knew. She knew the background of the world, the information of every species of existing plant and fauna, and even the Creator's own intentions for the world. She was overwhelmed by the information, both necessary and the trivial. And she was afraid. Suddenly the became aware of what she had done. She had partaken in the fruits of the Creator. Forbidden fruit, that had not been meant for her, Adam, not even for anyone perhaps.<p>

Adam however, had eaten another fruit, the one Eve had almost absentmindedly snagged on her journey down the tree. It could have been the fruit of anything. If Eve had chosen had chosen another fruit, we may not even be standing here today. However, in this instance, Adam was infused with the power we have now come to understand as '_Magic'_. Magic flowed through his body, infusing every part and cell, empowering him like never before. Adam didn't really understand, but he felt strong. He felt mighty. He felt powerful, if not even _invincible._ Turning around, his happy eyes met the confused and panicky eyes of Eve. Even as he began to ask Eve what was wrong, everything turned oddly misty around them. A ominous gray haze settled and floated around them, before suddenly furious and howling winds whirled furiously around, battering the two into the floor. When the angry wind finally receded and the two got off the ground to look around, they realised something terrible had happened. Instead of the lush greenery and foliage full of life that had previously surrounded them, they were now surrounded by nothing more than sand and dirt. A desolate wasteland greeted their wide eyes, and spanned far into the horizon. Eden was gone.

Thus the Creator did depart from the world , and with Eve's actions we were forsaken from the Creator. The departure of Eden as well as Yggdrasil sent ripples throughout the land, that had been up to that point free from conflict and destruction. The foraging human tribes turned from their peaceful ways, and waged war against other organisms as well as each other, fighting with constantly evolving weapons. The other creatures were not idle either as they adapted to this new land of strife and survival. Evolving into predators, the beings we now know as dinosaurs similarly rampaged across the land, laying waste to fledging human settlements, and those who would oppose them. Many avian creatures who had previously feasted on berries evolved into great leathery beings whose wings spanned the sky and hunted those on the ground. In the deep expanses of water, terrible creatures of many tentacles evolved, making the water far from a safe place. Beings flourished and died out, as strife and the struggle for survival engulfed the whole world. It was onto this scene that Adam and Eve eventually emerged into.

During their travels to escape the desert, they had been far from idle. Although Adam was now in possession of part of the Creator's very own power, he was so far inexperienced in the use of it. His power was raw, powerful, yet unfocused. Eve however, had inherited wisdom that had never before been seen in a mortal before. Although apart from her vast super natural intellect, she had no obvious powers, she was able by using her wisdom to guide and train Adam in harnessing magic. Adam was honed and sharpened, from a blunt club to a finely grinded edge of a sharp sword. His power and control grew in leaps and bounds, and by the time they finally came across the end of the wilderness into the forested expanse, he was able to do things that the Creator did, albeit on a much smaller scale. His power was so much he could accelerate and provoke the growth of trees and animals, control the tides and waves, create fire at his will, summon hurricanes, and mould the earth to his imagination. When Adam and his lover finally come across the band of humans they had come across, who were hiding after being attacked being attacked by wild animals, he swore by his power he would change things, and create a safe place for his race to live and flourish in. He used his power to isolate the valley, and created homes for his kinsmen to live. With his command, edible crops grew and flourished, and the domesticated animals they used for food fattened over mere seconds. Eve meanwhile imparted to her kinsmen knowledge and wisdom, and under her gentle training, our ancestors developed, became smarter, intelligent, and more like what we are today, capable of complicated thoughts and fanning the sparks of invention and innovation.

When Eve deemed that they were ready, Adam decided it was time to go out into the wider world, and unite all humans under one banner. Almost immediately they were attacked by ferocious predators, but the humans with their new cunning, deadly weapons, as well as Adam's magic were secure in their power. Over a span of several decades, humans became the dominant force on earth, as they became united and built vast cities and monuments displaying their civilisations. The other co-inhabitants of their planet which would seek to destroy them were driven back, far into the wilderness and the unexplored, and gradually faded into little more than bedtime stories that mothers would tell their children about. For a brief time, something that resembled the peace that befell the planet before the departure of Eden settled over the Earth.

Although Adam and Eve were blessed with a speck of the Creator's power, even they were not immune to the ravages of time, although their power did bless them with extraordinary longevity. Eventually, Eve succumbed, wrinkled in her age, and soon after so did Adam, following his lover into the beyond. Human civilisation as a whole grieved, and the two were lied to rest, buried in the centre of the greatest of the human cities. Their legacy however, did not end there. The Creator's power, unlike its vessels, was immortal and indestructible, and, when its mortal vessels failed to respond no longer, spread out into its surroundings. From the grave of Adam and Eve, the specks grew and expanded, pushing through the soil. There arose a magnificent tree, almost a replica of the Creator's tree Yggdrasil that was present so long ago. It too towered far into the air, and its mighty canopies protected the city like a roof from the elements.

And thus all would have been well, in that golden age of peace and prosperity, if it hadn't been for the apocalyptic event now known as the Great Flood. Some whisper that it was an punishment, sent by the Creator to punish us for what Adam and Eve did, whilst others say it was a freak event of nature with devastating consequences. The fateful day started like any other. The sun was shining, people greeted each other on the streets, and there was no indication that anything was wrong.

Then it came. No one could pin point where it started, but the earth quavered like water, and people cowered as the architecture of their civilisation trembled and fell about them. Before they could even come to terms with what had happened, colossal waves of water appeared over the horizon, elemental forces of fury rushing onwards eagerly to swallow up everything before them. It rushed ceaselessly onwards, a mighty flood that seemed to cover the world before it, whether it be mountains, forests, cities, people and other beings. Many species were extinguished in a instance, crushed and never to be seen again. The mighty dinosaurs for the most part, their size and bulk a hindrance rather than a boon, were mostly wiped out apart from a lucky few that were agile enough to retreat to the highest of mountains. The mighty human city of Atlantis was utterly submerged and destroyed, and along with it the majestic tree that had arose from the grave of Adam and Eve. In an instant, in the most terrible mass extinction to have ever graced the earth, 90% of the earth's life was wiped out, dragged and crushed into its watery grave. The remaining human colonies were in a state of chaos, and unable to contact their surviving brethren, rapidly devolved in both civilisation and technology. They adapted to the water flooded planet. Some of them gravitated to the remaining stretch of land running down the centre of the planet, and rebuilt their cities there. Others took to the sea in massive ships, and colonised islands as well as roamed the new and blue planet.

The legacy of Adam and Eve didn't exactly disappear right there though. Although the tree was immature, it was already beginning to flower, and when the mighty trunk was cruelly laid open under the lashes of the waves, the fruits of the trees were washed out, carried out into the wide ocean that was now wide open. These fruits, having come from a tree that was made from the combined remnants and powers of Adam and Eve, too held powers, although they were individually much more specific and less flexible than the powers that were bestowed upon Adam and Eve. There were thousands of them, each a different shape, colour or pattern. Some were found by humans, others by others , and some were lost for another, still hiding in the desolate unexplored wilderness of the world. Those which were found were eaten. People called these fruits ironically "devil fruits", for in this post-apocalyptic world, power was all that mattered, and these devil fruits granted great and terrible powers to those who ate them. Some were able to take on the form and control the elements themselves. Others had more peculiar powers, such as the ability to take on the form of other animals, and to manipulate their bodies like rubber. These beings held incredible power at their fingertips, and used it to change the world in their image. Other fruits were eaten or otherwise absorbed by other organisms. One fruit landed in fertile soil, where it was absorbed into the ground and taken up by the roots of nearby plants. Thus began the common ancestor of many of our magical plants and fauna. Animals similarly ate the fruit, and developed into magical beasts of varying power. Descendants of the original dinosaurs, who had escaped the mass extinction by being able to escape into the high mountain peaks and caves came across the fruits, and having eaten them, developed great wings on which to glide on as well as the ability to spit elemental bolts. For the first time in the world, magic was distributed across the entire planet, over many different animals and humans. Their descendants too inherited their magic, although its potency and powers changed across each generation. One enclave of wizards, having beaten off a rival group of wizards known as the Titans, took dominion over the ancient planes of Greece, and ruled over their mortal, non-magical counterparts. Their leader, Zeus, controller of the air and descendant of the woman who had originally eaten the devil fruit that granted power over lightning, oversaw the construction of their magical fortress upon the mountain of Olympus, along with his brother Posiedon, who had control over water and all equines, and Hades, who had control over the earth as well as to some small extent spirits and the dead. Despite being regarded as so called 'Gods', they were still human, and found wives, often of magical blood. Their children were raised to be either successors for when they succumbed to time, or other Gods if their powers did change over the generation. Zeus's son like his father had control over lightning, and thus when the old man died, he inherited the mantle as well as the title of Zeus. Hades son however, was very different from his father. Asclepius, who had striking green eyes, had not inherited his father's power over the earth although they did share their power over the dead and spirits. Instead, he was renowned as a master healer, who combining his powers was reputedly able to even bring back to life the recently deceased. Furthermore, he had developed the curious power to speak with reptiles of every kind, although he associated the most with the serpents, who had the utmost respect towards him. Asclepius was proclaimed the god of medicine, as well as the first lord of serpents for his powers. When he eventually died out at sea due to a kraken attack, his loss was mourned by all. Unfortunately, his only son was said to have developed no powers at all; indeed he was said to be unmagical, and had inherited nothing apart from the curious green eyes. He himself was cast out of Olympus, and lived out the rest of his days raising a family in the non-magical world. The magical line of Asclepius, god of healers and snakes, were said to be lost. Over the years, the other blood abilities were similarly lost or otherwise diminished, and the gods of Olympus eventually fell when the last descendant of Zeus was similarly found to be non-magical. Magic itself was a changing thing, and over the years, magic became more generalised rather than specialised.

This story however wasn't known to the general public. Indeed, curiously most of the wizarding folk of today in the UK don't seem to be concerned with history. Indeed, this story was just that, a story of no consequence that was only known by bored and curious individuals working in the department of mysteries as they recovered ancient magical artefacts.

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><p>Green eyes blazed in concentration. Lines creased the forehead of the dark haired young boy as he stared at the dead snake. Ever since that night outside, he wanted to control whatever had happened so he was never helpless again. His uncle had come home yesterday evening muttering about bloody foreigners after his business trip although he had brought a gift to Dudley. A bottle of snake wine, a large jar of alcohol with a dead snake in the centre, infusing the drink with venom. Predictably, Dudley, after the first five minutes of fawning the cool yet morbid gift had gotten bored, and had promptly smashed the bottle, resulting in it being thrown out into the litter, and into Harry's hands after he snuck out to retrieve it. The rather sad and soggy corpse was about half a metre in length, and had glass eyes. Harry suddenly tensed. A quavering string of essence departed from him and lazily winded into the corpse. A moment passed. Harry's shoulders slumped, disappointed. Apparently, he had failed.<p>

_§What the hell happened?§ _was the hissing reply.


End file.
